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A Different Kind of Bubbly

February 6th, 2010 Tamar Marino 2 comments

Imagine a room, not too large, not too small, with high ceilings. At the far wall, three gigantic, wooden barrels are lined in a row. They’re the kind you might associate with wine fermentation. The floor gently slopes down from all directions to a drain. And around it and throughout the room are long tables and benches. It’s cold outside, and it’s also cold in this room. Through a door on the right a man rolls in a parrilla (grill) whose coal glows red and orange. Still, it remains cold.

Outside there’s a patio with a large barbeque grill built into the wall. It’s black with soot. There are other doors along a low-roofed building to the left, leading to still other rooms.

This building is a sagardotegi, the Basque word for ‘cider house” (in Spanish it’s ‘sidrería’). One can drink sagardoa (‘cider’ in Basque) any time of year, but traditionally the season of visiting sagardotegis and drinking cider begins in January. The apples are harvested between September and November. They then undergo a process of fermentation that can last from 2 to 5 months. So by January, the first cider is ready to drink.

Surprisingly, a trip to the sagardotegi revolves not around cider, but around the relationship between cider and food. The actions of getting up to drink and sitting down to eat are constant and characterize the entire experience of visiting a sagardotegi. The moment one settles down to indulge in a forkful of creamy tortilla de bacalao (a cod omelette) is likely the same moment the ‘txoko’ is announced.

A plate of bacalao and pimientos verdes with a healthy sprinkling of salt.

A plate of bacalao and pimientos verdes with a healthy sprinkling of salt.

Shouted out by anyone who feels like it – a friend at your table, the guy across the room, or even the owner – the txoko is a call for more cider. Oftentimes it means an exodus of diners to the sagardotegi’s cellar where spouts are opened and cider explodes out in a fast and steady stream. Though the taste of cider varies considerably from barrel to barrel, almost every gulpful has a chance at excellence depending on whether it’s been properly aerated. For this reason cider is always served, whether from the barrika or botella (barrel or bottle), from a distance and in small amounts. The contact with air affords the cider a fizziness that, if not drunk quickly, is soon lost while waiting in one’s glass.

A man catches perfectly aerated cider into his glass.

A man catches perfectly aerated cider into his glass.

After the umpteenth txoko, it is back to sitting down. With little more than a fork and a knife, diners share the food placed before them with their companions. The meal is always the same – it’s the menu served at all sagardotegis: first, tortilla de bacalao, second, bacalao con pimientos verdes (cod with roasted green peppers), a large chuleta (steak), an endless replenishment of bread, and a finale of queso, membrillo, and nueces (cheese, quince, and walnuts).

Queso and membrillo with a basket of nueces.

Queso and membrillo with a basket of nueces.

The enjoyment of cider requires the “perfect storm” of different elements. Cold weather, friends, and good food bring out the crispness of the cider that would otherwise seem flat in another environment. Bundled up with empty glasses in hand, the people rush en masse to the cellar and different rooms of the sagardotegi to help themselves to cider that is sometimes sweet, bitter, acidic, or smooth. The flavor of apple is its only constant. Savoury, home-cooked food waits on the long tables, its steam slowly disappearing into the thin air. The people return, sit down, and indulge. The cycle continues and still no one notices the cold.

A Time for Savory and Sweet

December 31st, 2009 Tamar Marino 3 comments

In País Vasco, where every celebration or event revolves around the act of dining together, it’s not unusual to hear locals bemoan this “tradition of eating,” oftentimes beyond capacity, and in the same conversation happily resign themselves to it. Eating quality food around a table with those closest to you is an inextricable part of Basque culture, and one that features in their daily lifestyle. The holidays are no exception, testing the limits of one’s stomach at every turn, offering up some savory and a whole lot of sweet.

December 21st marks the official first day of the holiday season in País Vasco in what is known as el día de Santo Tomás (The Day of Saint Thomas). This day has nothing to do with Saint Thomas, nor does it have any religious connection. It is a celebration of two foods – txistorra[1], a sausage historically eaten during the winter months following the November matanza, or “pig sacrifice,” and talo, a corn bread not so distinct from the soft tortilla found in the Americas.

In the cities of Donostia-San Sebastián and Bilbao, el día de Santo Tomás is actively celebrated on the streets and in plazas and cafés. In Donostia, people crowd the Plaza de la Constitución in the Parte Vieja, the oldest part of the city, where food stands line its periphery. Behind the stands, txistorra is grilled by plump, old men, while women roll, pound, pat, and finally grill the flat, circular pieces of talo. Served warm, it is wrapped around the txistorra. Other stands serve sidra[2] (cider) which spews from its barrels into plastic cups for 1 euro, and is in fact the only way to wash down txistorra with talo.

Txistorra with talo, ready to eat.

Txistorra with talo, ready to eat.

People here love txistorra followed by a shot of sidra. It’s a flavorful sausage with a mild spicyness. Sidra, an alcoholic beverage, is bubbly and refreshing, with a distinct apple flavor that is at once sour and vaguely sweet. In large amounts, this combination can awaken one’s sweet tooth, which is satisfied by the stands selling pastel vasco (Basque tart) and artisanal chocolate cake by the piece.

The famous pastel vasco and other cakes sold at the festival.
The famous pastel vasco and other cakes sold at the festival.

A celebration of food and drink, el día de Santo Tomás is also preparation for even more eating. On la Nochebuena or Christmas Eve, Basques unite with family for dinner, and come together again on Christmas Day for a large lunch. New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day follow the same format. While there is little agreement on a typical meal with regard to these celebrations, one item is consistent on almost every holiday dinnertable – dessert.

Mantecados, polvorones, and turrón are the sweets of las navidades (Christmas holidays) in País Vasco and throughout Spain. Indeed, if there is one thing that unites Spaniards gastronomically, it’s their love of postre (dessert) and there is no better time than the months of November, December, and January to enjoy what only Christmastime brings.

Mantecados and polvorones at first sight look like cookies because of their round shape. Often wrapped in paper and twisted closed at the ends, they are both made with flour, lard, sugar and cinnamon, in differing quantities. Mantecados contain more lard, while polvorones contain more flour, thus proving extremely brittle to the touch. Some people opt to smush them between the palms of their hands so they maintain their form. Others simply open them and pick up the pieces. The most popular mantecados and polvorones are made with ground almond and are eaten with their cousin, the turrón.

Mantecados and polvorones served at Christmas.
Mantecados and polvorones served at Christmas.

Turrón is perhaps this country’s favorite dessert, a statement that can be corroborated by many sources. Turrón, like mantecados and polvorones, is unique in the world of sweets. There are two types – the hard kind and the soft kind – which are cut into thick bars. Golden brown in color, the original turrón is made with four ingredients: almonds, honey, sugar, and egg whites. Nowadays it is easy to find it made with chocolate, caramel, or walnuts, for example. Though these variations satisfy different cravings, the original is worth a first try. The soft kind has a rich almond flavor similar to that of almond butter. The bar has a smooth texture accented with crunchy bits of nuts. A thin layer of honey and oil glaze its exterior, adding a degree of moisture and sweetness otherwise lacking in the dry, nuttiness of the bar itself. This is the perfect dessert to have with milk, coffee, or tea.

A slice of soft, almond-flavored turrón.
A slice of soft, almond-flavored turrón.

The way Basques celebrate their holidays and special events can be likened to the way Americans celebrate Thanksgiving. Whatever the event may be, it is always associated with a particular food just as turkey is always associated with Thanksgiving. Cheese in September, alubias (beans) in November, txistorra on el día de Santo Tomás, sidra in the winter, and so on. The holidays here bring us a day of savory, but they revolve around sweet. In supermarkets, grandmothers and children alike fill bags by the kilo-full of mantecados and polvorones, and quickly move on to the tables of turrón. Everyone has their preference. And still some decide to wait because the season of sweet is not yet over. On January 6th, el día de los Reyes Magos (Three Kings’ Day) arrives, which can only mean one thing: the cake named in their honor, the roscón de Reyes, is finally set upon the table.


[1] A sausage, similar to chorizo, made in the Spanish regions of País Vasco and Navarra.

[2] An alcoholic drink made from fermented apple juice served year-round, but available at the most authentic sidrerías (cider houses) from January to April.

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